Friday, January 30, 2009

eyewitness america

as seen on a bench between the parking garage and the bars:

Barbie F. is a hoaly good freind
and justly in the eyes of god

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

blizzard of '09

buy a pint of sesame oil for a bearded old communist
and watch him sweep his car with a lanky husk
dunk your junk in maple syrup and commune
with a sadistic bumblebee tribe in your childhood swingset
park me in, will you? i don't want to be able to leave
i can't control the chief. he's a sweetroll.
mercury fat dolphin bob
that's what they call him

Sunday, January 25, 2009

the past, the present and the future

i hefted the toboggan
up onto my shoulders
"my cross to bear"
i chuckled to myself
the highway overpass
a diving mustard packet
cracked the windshield
and sent the pregnant
lady into a tailspin
some said "the twins
are cursed!"
we immolated a waffle
iron and the preacher's
son ran off to escape
that moment which was for us
our only liberation

no salvation but by my own hand



sarah and zach turned me on to a magical gospel

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

jelly fill fuller
piano architect
of the future
hammered strings
with his peepy dicky
yammered wings of ham
flapping smooth
in the meat time

home

so, the devil, lon chaney
and dick cheney
walk into a bar
in a wheelchair
bartender looks ‘em up
and down, “lemme guess…
couple-a shirley temples
and a big ‘ol peanut shell for your
fingernails too” barfly laughter
choking on bubbles

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

shickus

we peeled apart the head of cabbage
salted the leaves
baked the cake
she popped right out to surprise him
in the dimly lit western bungalow
tan carpets and brown chairs
pencil thin thrift shop mustache
earthquake chandelier
nosebleed over lips
she bruises easily
and we drank so much black tea
that we almost got ahead of ourselves
sharing ideas and sparkling eyes
while he ate pizza and watched
george clooney

dog museum

i had a crush on emily when i was 12 or 13
i saw her last night in the stairwell of my building. i am sick, so i was wearing sweatpants and i was too damn lazy to tie my boots so the laces were swinging every which way. she told me she read some of my poems in a sleep deprived state of mind. she said they made sense that way. and now i cant sleep and ive got a fever maybe. and it makes sense that way too. escape from new york leaves a lot to be desired. it suggests such a great and colorful world of garbage way beyond what it delivers. the part where snake spikes the juggernaut with the baseball bat is pretty amazing though. and harry dean stanton plays a guy called brain. so thats pretty great. kurt russel sucks though. oh yeah, but ive always loved the fact that john carpenter does the music to his movies. sometimes i cant figure out if its the right time to eat but im always hungry and im not really sure if im allergic to wheat but i have been experiencing some kind of backlash from my intestines in the last few months. i just try to be careful of what i eat, but, you know, who wants to do that? id eat fried chicken and cheeseburgers all day if my guts werent screaming. im okay with rice and vegetables. corn chips. but i ate a bunch of apricots and shit did i poop. and fart too. i guess i did eat a bunch of them though.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

specious glando

harve shaved his boot
with a special knife that was part of a big rusted multitool
before the silver reign of the leatherman
stirring pots of food within earshot of a rattling serpent
keep on yer toes so you dont get
a fried mars bar in your stocking